


The unknown passing through the strange

by Kooriicolada (WHM_Koorii)



Series: Ryders & Romances [1]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Default Sara Ryder, Drabble, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Pre-Relationship, Weird and Awesome Space Whales, aliens being aliens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 17:09:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10540863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WHM_Koorii/pseuds/Kooriicolada
Summary: Humans, and aliens in general, weren't supposed to be so identifiable.  They were supposed to be, at best, tolerable for the time being.  Unfortunately their Pathfinder doesn't care about his supposes.





	

**Author's Note:**

> No real spoilers for anything here, just a random drabble set on Voeld. I may well write more drabbles for these two so I'm setting this up as a repository for them. :D Feel free to throw me ideas if you like, and maybe they'll inspire something.

**** "Hold this, will you?" Sara said a second before she shoved her helmet into Jaal's hands.  He blinked, watching the strange, strange creature with intense curiosity.  She moved close to the slim line of the sun lamp, turning her face into it like a flower toward the sky.  From what he had learned thus far, her kind did not require sunlight as his did.  Instead, it was the heat given off by the lamp that she so craved.  She lingered so close to it that her armor, face, and hair were effused in a warm orange glow.  
  


"Drack?" she called, not looking back at them. "Could you move two steps to the right?"  
  


Drack grunted, shifting his great bulk, and Jaal realized abruptly that Sara was using him as a  _ windblock _ .  From the amused look on that odd, reptilian face Drack knew it as well and didn't care.  
  


Jaal looked down at the helmet in his hands, the dome of it gleaming under Voeld's faint light.  He tilted it until it reflected the line of the sun lamp, a sharp dash of color against the tinted material.    
  


The grotto that housed Techiix yawned open nearby, and Jaal considered mentioning that it would be warmer  _ there _ than out here, in the open.  The cold didn't bite at him the way it did the others, and instead he kept his peace.  
  


Beside the three of them two of his people spoke to each other, hushed and excited, about the yevara and the alien (the human).  The way that she had  _ listened _ , had  _ asked _ about their culture, their belief, was as novel to them as it had been to him.   Jaal didn't have it in his heart to tell them that Sara asked questions about  _ everything, _ her curiosity indefatigable.  
  


He'd never really met someone like her, someone with a million, billion adventures behind their eyes and questions on their lips.  It reminded him, perhaps, of himself.  It made his fingers itch and his skin buzz with the urge to take apart and put back together—to see the inner workings splayed out before him and  _ understand _ .  In a way, he felt, Sara did exactly that.  Except she did it with  _ people and words _ where he used tools and machines.  
  


And to think when he'd seen her that first time, walking down from her ship toward the armed guard waiting for her, he'd thought she would be as unreadable and closed off as any other alien.  
  


Oh, how wrong he'd been.  The Pathfinder was...nothing like he expected.  She was just as vivacious as his people in many ways; all raw emotion worn on the outside.  Her emotions were like a hand, one moment blunt force trauma and the next soothing and warm on the shoulder.  He found her intensity... __ astounding.  
  


Beside him, Sara made one of those low alien noises.  He turned toward her just in time to watch as she stepped down off the raised platform and onto the clear ice.  Each step she took was slow and carefully measured.  When she came to a halt she spread her arms out to aid her balance, attention locked on the massive silhouette of a yevara passing beneath her feet.    
  


He studied the creature for a moment, then looked from it to Sara's face.  In that moment, Jaal imagined he could feel the ice tremble with a hint of the yevara's eerie song.  
  


Her eyes were wide and bright with such unadulterated  _ wonder _ that it made something in him catch.  If he had been asked a short time ago if he felt like an alien of any kind could  _ understand _ any part of their culture, could truly feel it as they do, he would have scoffed.  The yevara meant many things to the Angara that Sara's heart could never grasp, but they also meant multitudes to  _ her _ in a way that he couldn't imagine let alone comprehend.   Her earnest awe, on display for all of them to see, left him feeling humbled.  
  


She continued to turn slowly, taking ponderous steps on the slick surface as the yevara passed beneath her, glowing and shadowy.  The moment seemed to go on forever, stretched out on the yevara's back.  
  


The trailing tail slipped beneath her feet, away from view, and she looked up to meet his startled gaze.  Her eyes were full, her smile wide and gleeful, face reddened from cold, and her lips were starting to turn blue.  He thought she looked as if she'd never felt more alive.  
  


Jaal blinked several times, throat closed tight, head ducked, and hands clenched on the helmet.  He'd known she was becoming a good friend, her honesty and eagerness to help his embattled people had assured that (it was so Angaran, so strange, so familiar) but right now?  He felt helplessly  _ fond _ .  
  


He'd never been any good at being distant.  Truly, he should have seen this coming with how insistent she was at gaining his trust and friendship, how she'd nudged and wheedled and joked.  
  


"Ryder," he said, the word coming out more brusque and thick than he meant it to. "Sara.  You should put your helmet back on."  
  


Sara laughed at him, bright and alive, and like a static charged kick in the gut even without a shred of electricity under her skin.  Jaal sighed and tossed the helmet to her.  He watched her make a grab for it, boots slipping on the ice until she nearly toppled.  
  


There were worse fates, he supposed, than being fond of this fascinating, amazing alien.


End file.
